


Of Flesh and Blood

by Saskwatche



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:57:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2735099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saskwatche/pseuds/Saskwatche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Regina, almost eighteen years old is to be married to a man her father's age..." This is a journey into the dark and twisted past of the Queen that came to be know as 'Evil'. The souvenirs of a tragically lost inocence, the downfall of an angel and the creation of a psychotic monster driven by revenge...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Stormy Night - To End It All

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel to a fic I had in mind a while ago. This recalls the events that pushed Regina to become the Evil Queen, it will aslo include non-canon thing as I want to introduce a certain OC of mine -that could be canon someday I think- so basically this is a dark and twisted alternate universe fiction that will include some parts of the show itself (like some dialogues I found were pretty interesting and everything...)

_“Will you be a good girl now?!” a woman yells, she holds her hand into the air, a young girl starts levitating on the other side of the room. She can’t breathe, she brings her hands to her throat in panic, tries hopelessly to get rid of the hold that her mother has on her. Her lungs hurt as she strives for air, her vision fills with black dots and she nods slowly. The grip on her throat releases and she inhales as much as she can, but she’s still hanging above the floor… It’s not over yet, her mother still has to teach her a lesson, and she knows it. She knows what’s coming and anticipates it bravely. But as courageous as she is trying to be when her bones snaps, she can’t help but scream. Her ribcage hurts now, she tries to hold her sides and protect herself, but it’s of no use. Another rib snaps and another…_

_Three, she counts, it’s the first time there are so many…_

_It hurts so much, but she doesn’t cry. She cannot cry; not until her mother leaves, not until she is alone with herself in the dark of her room…_

_“I’ll be good Mother, I promise.” She pleads, her voice cracking here and there._

_But it’s not enough. Words are never enough for her mother._

_“I gave you everything!” the older woman snaps “After all I’ve done to get us out of poverty, all the sacrifices I had to make, you still disobey me?!” her fury is palpable in the chilly air of the room._

_The young girl stays quiet. She cannot talk anymore, her ribs are too much pain and when they move it makes her suffer. Her body is already badly wounded, and those broken bones are not even the tip of the iceberg. She has cuts on her face, though not very deep they bleed down her face, and she has bruises everywhere, on her forearms, her chest and her face too. The bruises are for most of them a deep ugly purple, contrasting with her porcelain skin._

_The ruthless woman abusing of her power grows tired of her daughter not responding her, in a flick of her wrist she throws her across the room. Her face hits the tall looking glass in the far corner of the room. She falls on the floor, lies in the shards of the broken mirror, a sharp pain coming for the right side of her upper lip._

_She reaches for it; her fingers can feel her teeth through the deep cut and when she looks at her hand, blood is dripping along her beautiful fingers._

_She looks around the room, she’s alone now. Her mother has stormed off when she was on the floor, gaining consciousness. Tears pools in her eyes, but they do not go farther, she holds them back. She tries to get on her feet and leave, her legs give out under her weight and her knees scrape on the broken pieces of the looking glass beneath her. She takes a deep breath, waits during an eternity, the mirror biting into her flesh, gets up and wobbles into her room leaving a trail of blood drops on the floor and carpet._

 

_-/-_

 

_It’s late, the moon is high up in the sky and shines brightly through the bedroom’s window. It illuminates the dark polished wooden floor, reflecting on it. Her fresh wounds are still bleeding a little bit, besides her bed, lying on her nightstand there’s a bowl of clean water and some linen cloth._

_She grabs a match, lights up a candle, gets on the bed and automatically brings her knees to her chest. She’s had enough for the day –for a lifetime… Her eyes are filled with tears she cannot hold anymore, and as she tries to blink them away they only end up rolling down her cheeks; mixing up with the blood that is dripping from the multiple cuts that haven’t coagulated. And so she cries ever so silently, she must be strong, not let anything show and prove her mother that it doesn’t affect her anymore. Only problem is, it still hurts. Everything hurts; her 15 years old body is bleeding, and wounded, and she suffers like she had spent a lifetime in hell…_

_Bravely she takes a deep breath, dips the linen cloth in the water and starts cleaning up her face, gently going over the superficial cuts before attacking her lip. The cloth is tainted with blood once she’s done, but the wound isn’t bleeding anymore, she could almost forget it’s there, if it wasn’t for the sting it procures as the chilly air penetrates into it. She holds back another wave of tears, which like the preceding one end up filling her dark brown eyes, until they drip on their own. She repeats her cleaning operation with the defensive cuts on her hands and on her scrapped knees, repressing the stinging feeling that comes with it as best as she can._

_She used to it by now; her mother is not really the loving kind. Well she says that she loves the young girl, but her actions say otherwise._ It’s for your own good, Regina _, the words her mother speaks while beating her up come to her mind,_ you’ll see. Later you will understand it was for the best. _She chokes on her breath, how could a mother ever do that to her own flesh and blood?_

_She throws the cloth on the floor; it is now completely red, filled with her innocent blood. The young girl wishes she could sleep, she only wishes to lie on her side and not move for the rest of her days… but her ribs hurt. She can barely breathe; it hurts too much to feel her chest raise and fall as she inhales and exhales._

_She brings her knees even closer to her breasts, holding tightly onto them, her head rests on her left arm and her eyes begin to close slowly as she drifts into a light sleep. Her sweet dreams are invaded by horrible nightmares –souvenirs of her mother’s wrath-._

_Still asleep she weeps and sobs silently only to be drawn back to reality by the sound of her own screams. She is terrified. Her room is now pitch black, she takes a look at her nightstand, the candle as burnt down and left dried wax on the wood of the table. Regina sighs, drawing a wince from her as she remembers her several broken ribs._

_She wipes away her tears again; it’s the first time that her injuries are actually more important than bruises, superficial cuts and broken bones. It’s the first time she’s actually going to keep a scar to remember her that she had done nothing wrong –as usual- and that she simply is a victim of her mother’s magic and of her father’s cowardice._

_Anger shakes her whole body, invading her as she curses her father for turning a blind eye when Cora –her mother- decides to abuse of her power; she curses her mother for being a heartless bitch and she curses herself for not being able to fight back and for being afraid. And then she falls asleep unwillingly, exhausted and feeling like her life force has been stolen away from her._

 

-/-

 

Regina wakes up screaming again, her hand instinctively reaching for her upper lip. The scar is still there for everyone to see; for everyone to wonder what happened… She remembers her mother telling everyone, willing to listen, that her daughter was such a klutz, that she had fallen and hit herself on the corner of a piece of furniture. The young girl laughs bitterly; alone in her room. The disfigurement on her lip has healed; it has now become pale –just like her skin-, it’s been a while now. Regina tires to remember just how much time has passed since.

“Almost three years…”she sighs, letting out a nervous laugh afterwards.

Three years; and nothing has changed. She still has to play the obedient daughter part, never say a word and nod silently as her life passes her by. This isn’t her life… This is not what she wants… She grabs her sides, tries to comfort herself, the familiar warmth of tears on her cheeks.

“Nothing has changed, but I am to marry the King…” she sighs sadly her thoughts wandering over her long lost love...

_Daniel._ Her heart sinks in her chest. This is not what she had planned for him –or for herself in that matter. _He’s dead because of me. Because he loved me…_ Another wave of tears force their way through her lashes as violent sobs assails her body –her shoulders trembling forcefully.

She grabs her head, brings her knees to her chest –like she has done so many times in the past- and weeps.

A knock is heard on the door of her royal chambers, she doesn’t answer and the door opens. She had not realised that her scream had been so loud. Her father slips his head through the opening in the door.

He sees her eyes lock on his face, sees the distressed look on her face –the same she had when the King asked her to be his wife- and he knows something is wrong. He runs up to her, holds her tight in his arm –trying to be protective-, wipes away the tears that flow on her beautiful face and hushes her sobs.

“Regina, sweetheart, it’s alright…” he tries to be the father he always should have been. But it’s far too late for that; his precious little daughter is already broken inside. She is already lost, not to darkness, but to despair.

He tilts her chin up, her brown eyes are now swollen, and red, and lightless. That gleam that used to bright them up is gone, her happiness is gone. Forever… Buried with her one and only true love. Buried six feet under next to a tree, on a hill in a small clearing.

He rocks her frail body, her head laying lightly on his chest, eyes closed and her hands around his waist.

She holds onto her father like her life depended on it, like her letting go meant she would be swallowed into oblivion and be lost forever.

“You are to be Queen soon, my dear. Everything is going to be fine.” He continues. He’s trying so hard to soothe her, but he’s never really done it before. She always used to soothe her nightmares on her own. His daughter was strong like that… But that was before.

Before she was trapped here against her will, before she lost love, before she was almost beaten to death one stormy night.

He lets go, she gets up, walks to her balcony –ready to end it all-, he knows her intentions, but he doesn’t stop her. She’s been so miserable lately, staying in bed, crying, waking up in the death of night terrorized by nightmares –by souvenirs-. The sky is dark, clouds cover up the moon and there’s no light coming from anywhere. She is ready to jump and fall on the cold, hard ground of the royal gardens. She looks at the sky once more, memorizing every single clouds every shades of grey they are composed of. A single thought coming to her mind as she observes silently, streams of water running down her eyes.

_A storm is coming…_


	2. A Disastrous Honeymoon - To Lose It All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic isn't noted rape/non-con for nothing so if you enjoy the fic so far, but you don't want to read anything that might shock you, you can skip the last paragraphs after the dinner scene.

Her feet on the border of the balcony, her hands tightly grasping the parapet, her daddy’s gaze burning on her back, she is ready to let it go and she does. She feels herself falling, and then it stops. A familiar grip has her floating in mid-air, slowly returning her on the safe floor of her room.

Her mother is standing in front of her, arms outstretched, magic flowing through her fingers and if her eyes could kill; the young girl would’ve been long dead.

“You foolish girl!” she scowls, “Did you really think it would be that easy?!”

With a flick of her wrist the young girl is paralyzed and an invisible barrier appears on every single door and window.

“Now, you can’t ever leave this room…” she grins “Well not until you’re married that is.”

She turns her back on her daughter, walks past her father, grabs his shoulder and they disappear in a dark cloud of purple smoke.

Regina falls to the floor. Raging tears roll down her cheeks as she uselessly hits the floor with her fist. Her mind is rumbling with words that would make a lady choke on her tea, but none of them escape her pursed lips. She is trapped once again.

_I was never truly free anyway… Now it’s at least it’s really clear that I’m a prisoner._

She lies on the floor, her right side facing the ground; she brings her knees to her chest once more and grabs strenuously her legs. She wants to disappear more than anything now… Her last hope was to die and now even that has been taken away from her. The wedding will be tomorrow; afterwards the King and his new wife will leave three days for the summer palace, leaving his annoying brat behind with her father.

She is terrorized by what might happen then. She is disgusted by the mere idea of spending the rest of his days with him –the man is three times her ages, for Christ’s sake…

Exhausted, the young girl finds her way to dreamland. Her mind assaulted by repulsing images and horrifying visions of her future… she doesn’t wake up until morning, not until a servant enters the room and finds her on the cold slabs she was laying on.

 

-/-

 

_A married woman… I am a married woman._

Her white dress is truly stunning, the corset incrusted with the most precious gems she has had the pleasure to gaze upon, her hair falling on her shoulders in soft, shining loops.

The King is sitting across from her in the pale carriage they are riding. Many servants are following behind the newly wed. She stares out the small window; the scenery is astonishing in the shadows of the late afternoon sun. He presses his hand on hers, chills start running down her spine. He feels cold and his touch makes her want to vomit; but she doesn’t say a thing, stays silent just like her mother told her to be.

“Here it is, my Queen!” Leopold cheers gleefully.

Her head snaps towards the other window of the carriage, a magnificent manor stands in the horizon, contrasting with the forest; a lake lays at the feet of the domain, daylight shimmering and glistening on its surface.

She sighs, she is impressed and even though it’s her wedding day, her eyes are dull and filled with concealed sadness.

The King takes Regina’s hand and presses his thumb on her knuckles slowly brushing them.

“We have stables in the back of the domain, near the forest if you want to check them out…” he doesn’t look at her while talking.

As they arrive in front of the mansion, the door of the conveyance opens from the outside and the warm afternoon air rushes into the inside. The breeze fills Regina’s lungs, she swiftly jumps out of the carriage, and she runs down the alley up to the doors of the palace –the bottom of her dress brushing against the dirt. Many servants look at the young woman, bewildered.

She enters the empty, unlocked residence, still running she climbs the stairs to a room she hopes to find her personal items in, her hands are desperately trying to rip the dress off of her body. She hates it. The sooner she gets rid of it, the better she will be.

A knock is heard at the door by the time she has ripped half of her skirt and is fighting against the corset.

“Your Majesty?” a girl her age enters the room, “Do you need any help with that?” she bows down and keeps her head down.

“Please…” the Queen’s voice is soft, “I can’t seem to figure how to get rid of this thing.” She gestures showing off the tight corset compressing her ribcage.

The young servant, comes behind her, unties gently the bodice and loosens it until it falls on the floor –completely opened; releasing its hold on Regina’s breast.

“Freedom…” she sighs softly as she takes a deep breath. The young servant giggles behind her; she had almost forgotten she was there. “Can you go and fetch a blouse with long sleeves and a pair of pants for me please? There are in my luggage.” She tilts her head to the side and smiles towards the girl.

She nods and looks into the Queen’s wardrobe. Her eyes search frantically through the clothes, skirts, dresses and more dresses in her hands… She looks at Regina a frightened look upon her delicate face.

“There are no blouses or trousers in there, your Highness…”

Regina turns around, her left hand and arm covering her breasts, walks to the servant and takes a look into the luggage filled with pretty, pale colored dresses. She sighs loudly. _Mother, can’t you mind your own business from time to time?_ The young Queen is deeply annoyed by her mother’s change in her wardrobe.

An idea comes into her mind; she eyes the servant from head to toe –approximatively the same height and shape, which should do just fine-, mischief flashes in the her dark brown eyes. She smirks and the poor servant looks confused.

“Do you have any trousers or blouses with you, dear?” she asks sweetly.

The young girl blushes and nods at her Queen.

“Then go and fetch them for me please.” There is urgency in her voice as she waves her free hand towards the door.

The quiet girl exits the room, leaving a young Regina alone and almost naked. She starts to untie the back of her skirt with difficulty, but after two or three minutes the bulky piece of garment pools down at her feet. She gracefully steps out of it, walks to her bed and sits; waiting for the servant to return.

The servant knocks shyly at the door and enters the room just after. Her hands are filled with clothes and she smiles at the Queen, now lying down on her bed with nothing else but her underwear and a hand to cover herself. She coughs timidly, Regina stands up and gazes at the young girl’s arms –full of clothes. She smiles and walks towards her.

“Let’s have a look at that,” she takes a beige shirt with long sleeves and a plunging neckline, “and that…” she smiles and takes out of the young servant’s grasp a pair of dark brown pants –they look relatively unused, which is good.

“Need anything else your Majesty?” inquires the girl.

Turning around the Queen nods a no, throws the shirt on her bed, bends down a bit, lifts her left foot off the floor and puts on the pants. She repeats the same thing with the right side, and then walks to her looking glass. Her hands on her hips she admires the look she has in those trousers. Her arse is perfectly moulded by the tight –but not too much pair of pants- she smirks.

She takes the shirt and gracefully puts it on, it’s a bit too big, she rolls up the sleeves a bit, adjust the strings of the neckline –to make it a bit less plunging- and admires herself in the mirror. She is stunning in those borrowed clothes. She looks nothing like a queen and that is why she loves it. She doesn’t want to look like a queen…

With a nod of approval from Regina the young servant exits the room, leaving once more the young Queen on her own. She heads towards the window, looks outside –her room is facing the stables-, smiles brightly and runs outside and towards the horses.

As she enters the stables, she is pleased to see that Rocinante is there, eating some hay in his stall. Quickly taking a saddle and a bridle she walks towards her childhood steed. With swift and confident moves she ties the horse riding equipment’s on him. Leading Rocinante out of the stables, she gracefully jumps and swings her leg across the saddle, landing in a sitting position on the steed’s back. She caresses the horse’s neck gently, before giving a light kick in its flanks.

In a split second they are galloping in a clearing on the King’s domain. A false feeling of freedom fills her whole body as she feels the air brush against her cheeks. The sun warms her skin and she feels so good. For the first time in forever, she feels like she truly belong somewhere, and even though her heart clenches at the sight of a horse –remembering her long lost love- she never wants to get down her friend’s back. That is until she spots a small silhouette in the distance waving at her.

Slowly making her way towards what she can now spot as one of her husband’s guard, she sighs. She can never be happy and carefree for long, she thinks.

“Your Majesty!” the man shouts as the young woman gets down her horse, “The King is expecting you for dinner in an hour… It is time to get back.” He patronizes her.

He takes the horse’s bridle out of her hand and lead them back towards the big mansion on the hill. A flash of anger mixed with annoyance fills her eyes; she vigorously takes the bridle out of the guard’s hand and starts walking faster.

“I can make my way home on my own,” she snaps, “thank you very much.” Her voice is filled with sarcasm on those last few words. She swings herself back on Rocinante and races away from him.

 

-/-

 

After making sure her friend was well fed and securely locked in the stables she made her way back to her room, took a dress out of the dresser they were now stashed in, putted on makeup and slipped into the simple gown.

Once she is done, she makes her way downstairs and towards the big lifeless dining room. She knows she is late –an hour late, actually-, but she could not care less…

“You are late my dear wife.” Leopold’s soft voice resonates in the room. He is standing next to a lit fireplace a drink in his hands. She bows elegantly.

“A Queen is never late… Everyone else is just early.” She giggles, trying to ease up the tensed atmosphere.

He nods, walks towards the table filled with food and sits at the far end of it. He gestures to her, inviting his Majesty to do the same, and so she does –reluctantly…

She picks at her food, she is far from hungry, but she still tastes a bit of all. She’s trying to at least be respectful towards the cooks that probably spent the whole day working on setting up all this.

_We could feed a whole family for a week with all that stuff…_

The meal continued silently. When she was done she excused herself, went to her chambers and without taking her outfit off she fell on her bed.

 

-/-

 

A loud knock on her door wakes her up, she groans and a small head slips its way into the opening of the door. Wiping away the remaining bits of sleepiness from her eyes, she is surprised to see the young servant standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“The King wants to see you, my Queen,” she is playing with her hands, not once looking towards Regina, she adds, “he is waiting for you in his chambers…”

The Queen chokes on her breath as she feels a knot tying in her stomach. She exhales loudly remembering to breathe. She gets out of bed, her legs are shaky and she is pretty sure that by the time she gets there she will faint.

She doesn’t want to go, it’s dark outside and she knows what usually happens on the first honeymoon night. It disgust her, she wants to vomit and run, but she can’t she has to be strong. Stronger then she has ever been before.

Shyly she knocks at the King’s door; she hadn’t realized she had walked so fast. The entry opens on its own, she walks in –still feeling sick-, the air is warm, candles are lit all across the room, the floor is scattered with rose petals and the bed is undone. She wants to run away –more than ever now-, she wants to scream, to kick and make a fuss. Her instinct is telling her that _this_ is perverted and wrong on so many levels.

“Lock the door, Regina.” The King’s gentle voice says and she does like he asked.

Tears are pooling in her eyes, she blinks them away, walks towards the huge bed in the middle of the room and then sits on it, apprehending the dreadful night ahead of her.

Leopold walks out of the bathroom; he’s wearing a loose shirt and a pair of trousers. He walks up to her, wraps his hands around her waist and lifts her on her feet. Regina turns her head away from the man she now calls her husband, but he starts to trail eager open-mouthed kisses on her jawline and down her neck. They feel cold and devoid of any trace of love.

One of his hands makes its way to her forearm, pulling on her sleeve, revealing her collarbone and the flesh of her shoulder. He kisses and nibbles on the pulse beating on her neck and then moves downwards towards her collarbone, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he goes. His left hand leaves her waist and travels across her body towards her arse, grasping it vigorously. He groans visibly content with himself.

She is mortified, her head is spinning, and her eyes are fixed on a crack in the wall, because if she looks at him she knows she won’t be able to stop the tears threatening to flow.

_This is not about me,_ she keeps repeating to herself, and so she lets him lead the dance.

Both of the King’s hands leave the young girl’s body, her head tilts towards her husband. He’s looking at her body, from head to toe. A smirk on his face, he takes Regina’s frail hands, turns her around and then proceeds’ in untying the strings that hold the piece of clothing together.

As soon as he’s done and her dress pools at her feet, the warm air becomes freezing. She fights against the urge of covering herself up and dash away from his gaze.

Her body stiffens when she feels his long crooked finger slide against her naked back towards her lace underclothes. His finger slips between the only remaining pieces of garment she is wearing, tugging on it so slowly to make it move downwards.

Once her white laces panties are in the middle of her thighs, she feels the King’s hand grasp the fragile fabric and tear it apart. Chills run down her spine –she isn’t ready for whatever might come next. She turns around, a hand chastely hanging over her breasts, her cheeks are crimson red and her eyes are holding back tears as she looks down at the floor. Slowly her husband grabs her chin and pulls it towards his face. He smiles, leans in and lays a soft kiss on her plumped lips. He gently nibbles at her lower lips, parts his lips and forces his way into the young Queen’s mouth. Her tongue fights against his, he enjoys it –terribly. Her rejection, her teasing, turns him on –making his trousers suddenly become a lot tighter.

She pushes him back, but his arms are now wrapped around her, trapping her like an animal as he grinds his hips and his erection against her naked body. He walks towards the bed, pushing her until she flinches against the bedside. She falls onto it and he falls on her, his large body caging her under him.

With his right hand, he grabs both her wrist and pulls them above her head. She struggles a bit, her hands feeling the need to be free, but he is too strong for her frail body.

Tears pool once again in her eyes, and she bites into her lower lip to keep them there. She bites so hard her mouth fills with the pungent taste of blood.

Leopold’s left hand travels around her body, making its way towards the apex of her thighs. Her flanks clenches – very hard- making it almost impossible for him to explore the wetness –although very dry- that he’d like to feel on his new wife’s figure. He abandons the idea of getting there with his hand and so he starts pulling down his trousers one-handed –which proves to be very difficult.

_This is almost over Regina just suck it up,_ she keeps telling herself, on the edge of breaking down.

He smirks when she looks at him, his long shirt falls almost to the middle of his thighs –his now naked thighs-, she gasps apprehensive. Her body clenches now more than ever, she can’t do it. This so twisted, it’s repulsing her.

She throws her head back; she doesn’t want to look at him anymore. She doesn’t wish to look upon the face of the man about to take her so precious virginity.

His knee finds its place between her legs and spreads them apart, gently. He leans over her, places himself and then thrusts into her; fiercely and without passion. He moves into her, quickly, his movement are filled with repressed anger and wrath. Beneath the fair and just man everyone knows, lies an angry man.

She tilts her head to the side, not breathing, it hurts each time he moves, and a stray tear roll down the side of her face.

Although it is over very quickly, he pulls out, comes over her lower abdomen, falls on her and then rolls to the side, his face facing the ceiling.

As soon as he lets go of her the young girl gets up, wipes herself with his trousers, puts her dress back on and runs out of the room –just like she wanted to do earlier. She storms into her room and heads towards her private washroom. She cannot repress how sick she feels and retches in the toilet. As she vomits, the tears she was holding back find their way back into her deep brown eyes and damp her beautiful cheeks.

She feels so dirty, she takes a washcloth that was hanging next to a bassinet and dips it into the bassinet’s water. Twisting the cloth she undresses and starts washing her lower abdomen –the sickening feeling coming back to her.

Once she is physically clean she takes a new pair of panties, heads in the direction of her huge bed and crawls under the sheets cowering in a fetal position.

The young Queen’s sobs and laments can be heard on the whole floor as she cries herself to sleep.

_This is what I had to do…_


End file.
